


Sherlock Holmes engaged

by LadyTineapple



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTineapple/pseuds/LadyTineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock finally returns home after defeating Moriarty's web to continue his former life with John. As John has to notice, however, Sherlock seems to have done a lot more than just chase criminals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Holmes engaged

John could not believe his eyes. What he saw before him was absolutely impossible. Sherlock had come back into his life, almost two weeks ago, after three years in which the doctor believed he was dead. He still was not used to seeing his best friend, alive and sound standing in front of him as if the previous years never had happened.

Now, however, Sherlock was not only standing in front of him, he also had his arm resting on the hip of a young woman who was standing beside him, alight with happiness. Sherlock introduced this woman as his fiancee, Agatha.

When John had first learned that Sherlock was still alive, he had of course been shocked, but Sherlock had assured him that it has been for his own safety and that he had used the time he spent away to destroy Moriarty’s web. Looking at the woman at his side, John thought that Sherlock surely had also had other ways of spending his time during his absence.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, forcing himself to a friendly smile as he shook her hand. He had to admit, under other circumstances he might have flirted with her himself, which was a complete taboo now, of course. You don’t flirt with the fiancee of your best friend.

“You too.” For a moment it was all quiet. “Anyway,” she then said, glancing up at Sherlock, with a smile, as if she wanted to spend the rest of her day kissing him. “I have to go.” She turned back to John, with an apologetic smile. “Just wanted to come by and say hello, to have a face to the stories. Sherlock has told me so much about you that I just had to meet you. So,” she looked from one man to the next. “Bye then.” Planting a short kiss on Sherlock’s cheek and waving at John, who had to bring up quite some strength to wave back at her, she ran down the stairs and out to the street.

“Well,” John said, still completely baffled, while Sherlock sat down on the sofa and picked up a magazine from the table as if he had no care in the world. John felt a bit betrayed. Not only had he been lied to for three years and thought he had lost his best friend, he had also been lied to about his whereabouts when he thought he had finally figured out the truth. He had hoped that things would be the way they were, before Sherlock has left. He had hoped things would be normal again. Well, as normal as things could be with a Sherlock Holmes. What was going on, however, was not at all normal. Sherlock having a relationship was anything but normal to John.

It was not only a relationship, John reminded himself. Relationships could last years on end or be broken up the very next day for no obvious reason. This was a lot more serious. This was an engagement. Sherlock would probably not break his engagement for the sake of his best friend. John wasn’t too sure whether he would have done it, in his position, but he knew that if Sherlock had wasted a single thought on the possibility of leaving her for him, which was probably not fair to her, he would already have called it off or at least given her a warning and she would not have been that happy and certainly less fond of seeing John. He would have to move out, John concluded. Either that or Sherlock would move out. Either way, Sherlock would soon be living with her and John would be left behind again.

“That’s a surprise,” John continued, staring at the detective in utter disbelief, trying not to show what was going through his head. “I didn’t even think you were capable of–” He stopped himself, when Sherlock glanced up at him, with a raised brow. He had not meant to offend the detective. He was speaking before he was thinking and saying things he did not mean at all. “Tea?” he asked, trying to change the topic, but fled to the kitchen, before Sherlock could reply. As he boiled the water and took out the cups, he silently swore to himself. He felt so utterly stupid for feeling jealous, for having trusted Sherlock and for having believed it would always be the way it had been, so long ago. He should have known. Nothing ever stays the way it was.

“You thought I wasn’t capable of feeling love?” Sherlock said from the kitchen-door, appearing so suddenly that John almost dropped the cup he was holding. Sherlock was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his eyes piercing through John. Something, the older equally hated and enjoyed. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked being the centre of Sherlock’s attention, even though he usually felt very uncomfortable with it, because he knew the younger could see everything. Everything he had done that day, everything he thought, everything he would be doing later that day, even when he didn’t know it himself yet.

“Well,” John said, tightening the grip on his cup. “No, I don’t know. I just– I assumed, I mean…” he babbled mindlessly, trying to find the words what he had thought. He didn’t know what has been going through his mind when he had said it. Nothing. Everything. He was completely lost.

“So you really didn’t notice,” Sherlock said, one side of his mouth twitching up slightly.

“Notice what?” John asked, almost scared. What had he missed this time? What had his stupid brain overlooked?

Sherlock pushed himself off the doorframe, sighing a little and took a step towards John. “That I have been mindlessly in love with you, since the day we met for the first time,” he said, his face and voice carefully neutral. 

This time, John dropped the cup and it loudly shattered on the floor, but neither of the men payed attention to it. He did not know what to say at all. He only stared at Sherlock with his mouth open and tried to breathe. His heart was beating way too fast and he felt as if his chest was becoming smaller with every beat. His throat seemed to have vanished altogether. He felt the need to repeat what Sherlock had said, just to make sure he had not gone insane and only imagined it.

Sherlock slowly stepped towards John, the broken bits of porcelain scrunching under his steps. He held up an intense glare, not once taking his eyes off John’s face. He almost seemed a bit worried as he came closer.

John tried to find his words, until Sherlock stood right in front of him, his hand hovering only a few centimetres away from John, unsure whether he was allowed to touch him.

“Are you going to kiss me?” John asked, when he finally remembered how to speak, but his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. He did not know why that was the first thing that came to his mind, but he did not really care either.

“Do you want me to?” Sherlock asked, not changing the way he looked at John.

For a moment the older was completely silent, just staring at the detective. He tried to think about the question he has been asked, but it seemed his brain forgot how to form thoughts. “Yes,” he whispered with a light nod and Sherlock slowly leaned in. His moves were very slow and gentle. Enough to give John many chances to change his mind and back away.

“You can’t cheat on your fiancee,” John said last second, wincing almost unnoticeably. He hated himself for interrupting his probably only chance to kiss Sherlock, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

“This is not cheating,” Sherlock whispered, without backing away. John could feel Sherlock’s breath on his lips and almost let out a moan.

“Yes, it is,” he said, even quieter than Sherlock previously, fighting the urge to just forget his morals for a moment and pull the younger into a kiss.

“Not, if the engagement is not real,” Sherlock replied with a short smirk and then gently pressed his lips on John’s. Sherlock’s lips were surprisingly gentle on John’s and so was his tongue, when John opened his mouth to the detective. He had just enough time to notice that Sherlock did not seem overly experienced, when the detective placed his hand on his hip, making him wince and wiping his mind completely blank.

They kissed for a long time, far longer than John had kissed anybody in years, running their fingers up and down each other’s bodies and through the other’s hair. When they finally separated Sherlock looked a bit flushed, his hair ruffled more than usually and John noticed the hint of a smile behind his eyes. Not his usual curious smile or the way he enjoyed a crime-scene, but a far more relaxed, genuinely happy smile, which made John smile in return. He wanted to kiss him again, he wanted to make him look like that more often. He never wanted to stop. For a moment he did not even mind the complete emptiness inside his head. It was surprisingly relaxing.

“What did you mean ‘the engagement is not real’?” he finally asked, after a long silence, in which they had done nothing, but studied each other’s faces, trying to remember every detail. Sherlock huffed and smiled down at John.

“I meant,” he said slowly, absentmindedly drawing lines on John’s hip with his thumb, “that it’s not real. I proposed to her, because I’m investigating in a case – blackmailing, rather dangerous man – and she can help me to get a closer look at the people involved.”

John, who had great difficulty listening to what exactly Sherlock said, under the touch, nodded, his mouth open a bit. His brain had slowed down incredibly. He had always felt a bit stupid compared to Sherlock, but now it felt practically ridiculous.

“Don’t worry,” Sherlock continued with a smile, reading John’s thoughts before he even had them and leaned even closer to John. “She knows. Today was more of a practice to see how well we can trick others into thinking we are a couple.”

“Well,” John said, swallowing hard, “you had certainly convinced me.”

A triumphant smile crossed Sherlock’s face. “Good,” he said pressing his lips on John’s forehead. “Then there should be nothing getting in our way and we can stop that tedious masquerade soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, beta'd by Emma (bitchinblackframedglasses on tumblr), so big thanks to her!


End file.
